


One Sultry Night in Silvermoon

by xxSpritely_Chubbstickxx



Series: Azerothian Sexcapades [1]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Actirasty, Anal Sex, Cuckolding, Cunnilingus, F/M, Kissing, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Pegging, Sex, Strap-Ons, Tickle Fights, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 23:23:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15278481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxSpritely_Chubbstickxx/pseuds/xxSpritely_Chubbstickxx
Summary: Tyrande has grown weary of tracking down her foolish husband Malfurion, and has decided to put her search on hold to take a short respite in the grand city of Silvermoon. The blood elf capital is not a place known for its hospitality toward night elves, to put it lightly, but Tyrande has a hankering for blood elven booty and this is certainly the place to get it.But Tyrande, High Priestess of Darnassus, is no ordinary night elf, and no ordinary civilian will do for her. She is going after the grand prize - Regent Lord Lor’themar Theron, the leader of the Sin’dorei himself. Will Lor’themar succumb to Tyrande’s sensuous wiles and freely indulge in a night of lustful love making, or will Tyrande have to take him by force? In either case, this will be one sultry night in Silvermoon.





	One Sultry Night in Silvermoon

 

It was a cool night in the Eversong Woods. Beyond the quiet forest of gold and white trees that gave the region its name glowed the fabulous elven city of Silvermoon, whose toweringly phallic spires shot high into the air above the protective ivory walls far below.

 

On this particular night, the city was illuminated to a degree unusual even for the splendor of the Sin’dorei that inhabited it. A grand Masquerade was sweeping through its winding streets and perfect plazas, called for by the Regent Lord himself in celebration of the city’s long awaited reconstruction. Wherever one looked laughing figures froliced and danced, their mood brightened all the more by the copious amounts of alcohol and bloodthistle Lord Lor’themar had ordered freely distributed. This late in the night, clothing was more of a suggestion than a requirement, and any elves who were not already passionately love-making were searching for an individual or group to do so with.

 

Not all so far away from these sordid affairs loomed the soaring Sunfury Spire, the largest tower in all of Silvermoon and home to its aristocracy. Two figures clad in red plate mail marched into sight, patrolling around the bottom of the tower. Even on a night such as this, the guardians of the spire were on full alert.

 

“Quite the party down there, hmm Dick’thalar?” chuckled one of the shiny sentinels to the other. “Mayhaps the Lord Regent will allow us to wander down when our shift’s over, and we can have some of our own fun…” As Dick’thalar began to reply, he was interrupted by a sudden illumination from above. The scattered clouds in the sky above parted, allowing the light of the full moon to illuminate them fully. They looked upwards at the unexpected light, but only for an instant - this moonlight was far more potent than anything they had ever experienced. “My eyes!” screamed one, clutching his face, while the other groaned and crawled up into the fetal position as smoke billowed from his peepers. “Two weeks… from.. retirement…” he groaned softly.

 

Tyrande Whisperwind appeared out of the shadows, heaping praise upon Mother Moon under her breath as she leaped past the moaning guards, her bosom bouncing merrily as she ascended the vines that crawled over the side of the spire. Smugly, the high priestess of the night elves slipped into a carelessly unlocked window on a lower level of the tower. She was in.

 

Regent Lord Lor’themar Theron was out on his balcony enjoying the cool night air, leaning over the railing with a glass of Silvermoon Squeeze and watching the festivities below. Despite the cool air, Lor’themar was getting quite hot under the collar. Overseeing all these carnal festivities had begun to affect him, as his throbbing manhood was so eager to remind him. Eager to free it from its cloth prison, and unable to deny his exhibition kink any longer, the Regent Lord slipped his magnificently erect Sin’dorei sausage from behind his loose celebratory robes. His gaze fixated on a small orgy in one of the small plazas facing his balcony and he began going to town on his paddy whacker. So focused on punishing his peepee was he that he didn’t notice the large, lithe shadow that dropped into the room behind him, nor did he hear it sneak up inches from his back. Warm breath on his neck drew him from his masturbatory reverie and he sighed. “Rommath, I wasn’t expecting you for at least another hour. Come here, you naughty mage, and I -” he turned and smacked face first into a pair of blushing lavender boobies. “What the - Tyrande?!” he spluttered once he had regained his composure. He backed up into the balcony railing, hastily trying to tuck his leaking donger away and failing miserably. “What are you doing - how did you - and tonight of all nights!” Tyrande, calm as ever, stepped closer and played with a lock of his hair that hung attractively over his dashing eyepatch. “My husband has been kidnapped, _again_ , Lorthie dearest, and I tire of playing the rescuer. Besides, I haven’t had a suitable dick in me in millenia,” she purred suggestively. Lor’themar was bent back over the railing as she leaned over him and nibbled on his ear, her hand trailing down his chest to his very hard and very intrigued cock.

 

Lor’themar’s thoughts raced. Tyrande Whisperwind - leader of his people’s sworn enemy, the oh so high and mighty night elves - in his boudoir, trying to seduce him? Perhaps one of the servants had snuck something into his drink again… but no, this seemed far too real to be an hallucination. He could call for his men - Tyrande would certainly make a fine prisoner to bargain with against the Alliance. But even as Lor’themar considered this, the thought of the ongoing demon invasion at the Broken Isles flooded into his mind. Now was not the time for petty squabbles - they were, _technically,_ currently in a truce after all. What’s more, politics aside, he could not ignore the throbbing urge calling alluringly from downstairs - Lor’themar was quite a fan of the larger things in life, and it wasn’t every day he had the chance to be made love to by a woman this large who wasn’t covered in fur with a set of horns to boot.

 

Grinning cheekily up at the intimidatingly provocative Tyrande, who continued to push him up against the balcony’s edge, he replied alluringly. “Well, my dear, I can’t say that this isn’t a surprise, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t… interested.” As he spoke, he placed one finger between the temptress’ lilac melons and gently pushed. Tyrande acquiesced, moving backwards enough to allow him to stand straight once more. Reaching up to cup her sinfully soft face in his hand as he moved in close, he looked far up into her silver eyes and murmured, “Well then - show me what the noblest of the Kal’dorei has to offer.” Smiling sensuously in return, Tyrande leaned down and lovingly melded her supple mouth with the equally lascivious lips of the Regent Lord.

 

As Tyrande snaked her tongue out and pushed it into the warm, slick cavern of Lor’themar’s mouth, the leader of the blood elves pressed himself flush against her curvy body and reached around her to grab fistfuls of her delectably round ass. She gasped into the kiss to feel his small hands eagerly fondling her. He was being surprisingly bold. She had half expected to have to spend more time convincing him, but he was apparently no stranger to horny prospective lovers surprising him in his chambers. Spurred on by his boldness, Tyrande fondled him in kind, cupping his fleshy fanny in one hand and massaging the v of his waist with the other. Minutes passed with them enthusiastically swapping spit, deepening the kiss until Tyrande’s wriggling mouth muscle was all but buried within Lor’themar’s welcoming thrussy. With a light slap to Tyrande’s rear, the Regent Lord broke the kiss with a moan and said, breathlessly, “I must confess I’ve always had a thing for women from the races larger than the Sin’dorei.” Tyrande smiled as she massaged his warm ass cheeks. “We’ll get along just fine, then. I’ve always wanted to fuck an elf who’s shorter,” she said. Eyes shining with lust, Lor’themar grabbed the sides of her head and stood on tiptoe until their faces were but an inch apart. “Then take me, you sexy piece of priestess pussy,” he breathed, and mashed their lips together in a ravenous kiss. As they sloppily ate at each other’s mouths Tyrande steered them towards Lor’themar’s four poster, lavishly pillowed bed. She pulled away from her lover’s lips and pushed him backwards onto the soft mattress. “Lets get those ridiculous robes off and make this a night to remember, shall we?” Tyrande murmured.

 

“Yes ma’am!” Lor’themar replied enthusiastically. With a shrug of his graceful shoulders, the robe fell away, revealing the tanned and muscular body beneath. Tyrande had already stripped down to her undergarments, leaving her armor and weapons in a small pile at the side of the bed, and leaped on top of the smaller elf. The bed creaked and groaned under her weight, but held - for now. The two continued to smooch ferociously for a moment, then Tyrande moved her lips away from Lorthie’s face and onto other parts of his body. She was met with a moan as she nibbled lightly with her pointed teeth on his neck; and then a hum of contentment as her tongue circled around his hairless nips.

 

As Tyrande moved further south onto his stomach, Lor’themar jolted suddenly. “N-no, wait, I’m, ah - a bit.. Sensitive down there,” he stammered.

 

“Oh really? A bit.. Ticklish, are we?” Tyrande raised an eyebrow coyly.

 

“Just… just a bit.” Lor’themar smiled self-deprecatingly, regaining some of his composure. It wasn’t _exactly_ a secret of his, but it was true that the lightest touch would reduce him to a chortling mess.

 

“Oh, well that’s too bad. I suppose I should be careful not to handle you too _roughly_!” She squealed as she dove into a tickling frenzy, teasing every inch of the blood elf’s body she could reach. Lor’themar shrieked and giggled hysterically as he tried and failed to protect himself from Tyrande’s relentless attack, frantically clutching at her insidious fingers. “N-no.. please!” he begged, but at the same time he had to admit this was hotter than anything he could have imagined. Using her size to her advantage, Tyrande held the mighty ranger lord down and tickled every nook and cranny of his body for several seconds. Suddenly, she flinched just as he had - Lor’themar, ever the master tactician had realised that his best defense was a good offense, and had given up protecting himself in order to focus on her luscious form. Tyrande contorted in a subconscious attempt to avoid his dancing fingers, laughing almost as hard as he had been. The pair devolved into a flailing pile of purple and pink limbs, their laughter echoing throughout the room before they finally collapsed into a tangled heap in the centre of the bed. Somehow in the furor of their tickling Tyrande’s flimsy nightdress had come loose, and Lor’themar found himself lying atop her naked form, his head nuzzling between her oh so soft and welcoming breasts. He sighed in contentment - the true festivities had not even begun, and already he was having more fun than he could remember in decades of debauchery.

 

Peeking down at her mischievously over the purple mounds of her heaving honkers, Lor’themar lowered his lips to one of her perky titties and sucked it into his mouth. He had been waiting to do this all night. She gasped as he laved over the dusky nub with his tongue. He sucked on it a few moments more before shoving his face between her mouthwatering melons and motorboating them with great gusto. The feeling of the two heavy mounds smooshing against his face was heavenly as he slapped them against his cheeks, his mouth blowing raspberries into her sternum. If only he could remain here for eternity!

 

With difficulty Lor’themar extracted his face from her cleavage and nibbled lightly on the other nip nop before Tyrande lifted his head up by the hair. He winced. “I want you to go muff-diving in my hidden temple of Elune,” she said huskily, as her Sin’dorei lover traced around one nipple with the tip of a finger. Lor’themar’s mouth went dry with lust. “Thought you’d never ask,” he whispered. He wrenched her quivering thighs apart and dove in with an alarming ferocity.

 

The High Priestess gasped in surprise and flung her perfectly coiffed head back as Lor’themar went to town munching her dripping purple pussy. He parted her beef curtains with his thumbs and slurped up her salty female juices like he couldn’t get enough. Thick, luscious turquoise pubes caressed his face like lovers as he devoured her, and he couldn’t help but run his fingers through the curly locks and grip them tightly. Lor’themar drank down her tangy pussy juice as fast as she could produce it and shoved his tongue deep between her powerful salty walls. Tyrande screamed and grabbed Lor’themar’s head, shoving her musky muff into his mouth and writhing under the assault. “Yes, YES, lick me Lorthie, lick me like I’m the tastiest mana bun you’ve ever had!” she cried. Ever obliging, Lor’themar continued licking and shoved two fingers straight up her snatch.

 

Lor’themar’s fingers had no difficulty sliding straight past Tyrande’s engorged labia and into the glistening purple glory beyond. If the rivers of fluids that flowed past his digits were anything to go by, Tyrande was certainly excited - a hypothesis that was backed up by the gasp of pleasure which followed his fingers’ entry. Slowly he began to thrust his fingers in and out of the hole, then at Tyrande’s urging increased his momentum until she was wriggling in gratification - all the while continuing to ravage her clit with his tongue.

 

Patiently yet persistently Lor’themar continued his actions, feeling the heaving of Tyrande’s voluminous thighs trembling more and more against his head and shoulders. Tyrande’s breaths came faster and faster, her moans increasing in volume as well until suddenly she felt the orgasm overwhelm her. Crushing Lorth’s face deeper into her crotch with both hands, she screamed in pleasure as the waves of bliss filled her to the brim. Finally the euphoria ebbed, leaving her panting and red faced; Lor’themar looked up and grinned toothily, his face covered equally in vaginal secretions and spit. “If you thought that was good, my tangy teldrassil tomato, just you wait.”

 

Tyrande licked her lips. “That kind of performance should be rewarded,” she said slyly, beckoning him towards her. He wiped her gummy juices off his mouth with the back of a hand and lunged forward to kiss her. In the blink of an eye Lor’themar found himself flipped onto his back beneath the lusty priestess, gulping as he caught sight of her predatory stare. She grabbed hold of his oozing organ which, to his embarrassment, looked comically small in her large hand, and without hesitation lowered her head to take his oozer right into her gaping mouth hole. His Sin’dorei pleasure pickle was but a small mouthful to her experienced throat, but he was a deliciously slippery weight on her tongue nevertheless.

 

Lor’themar groaned and began thrusting into Tyrande’s mouth, her powerful mouth organ playing his flesh flute like an fine instrument. It tickled his bulbous head and flicked at his cummy slit until he felt the fine edge of orgasm coming close. Just as he felt he was about to blow his load there was a commanding knock on the door.

 

“Lorthie, I’ve come to take you up on your offer for some private boy time, just the two of us,” called none other than Grand Magister Rommath. Lor’themar’s eyes flew open and he scrambled to find something, anything, to hide what he was doing before the door inevitably opened. “Uh, uh, just a minute!” he called, trying not to sound like he had just been seconds from orgasm. Tyrande made a little noise of indignation as Lor’themar sat up quickly and threw a heavy comforter over her, and not a moment too soon. Rommath, ever brusque, flung open the door and marched in.

 

“Oh Lorthie, already ready for me I see?” Rommath smirked from the doorway. Lor’themar attempted his most winning smile. “I’m afraid I’ll have to postpone our appointment, Romm,” he said. “I’ll be ready for you in about a -” The Regent Lord was cut off by his own ungodly squeak and squirmed beneath the covers. Tyrande, not one to be ignored, had found Lor’themar’s sweet meat and had wrapped her spit-slick lips around it once again. Rommath raised an eyebrow. “Something the matter, my Lord?” he asked. Lor’themar grabbed at a lump between his legs. “Nothing, nothing, but I’m afraid you’ll have to come back la-later,” Lor’themar gasped. Rommath huffed and rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. But don’t expect me to wait up for you,” he muttered, and, with a dramatic, disappointed sigh, exited the room.

 

Tyrande’s tousled head appeared from under the covers. “What a rude interruption,” she murmured as she crawled her way back up to snuggle up against Lor’themar’s chest. “I wonder if he suspected anything.”

 

“I doubt it, my dear - the Grand Magister may have a way with magic, but connecting the dots has never been one of his strong points. Now then, where were we?” Lor’themar growled seductively as he caressed a delightfully curved chest pillow.

 

“I believe we were about to move on to bigger and better things,” Tyrande answered, climbing on top of the smaller elf and grinding against his stomach as she straddled him. Lor’themar felt the oozing wetness of her crotch leaving a sticky snail trail wherever it went, which did nothing but turn him on more. “By the sunwell’s light - take me, take me however you’d like!”

 

Tyrande was happy to oblige. Moving herself down the blood elf’s body, she reached behind her and located his quivering knobgoblin, already slick with precum. Positioning it carefully, she eased herself downwards, gasping as she felt an increase in pressure before it pushed past her guarding walls and entered her. She had had larger, it was true - for a moment visions of Malfurion’s spritely chubbstick filled her mind - but nevertheless she enjoyed the sensation of the love muscle within her. As for Lor’themar, the sensation in his twisting nether regions was nearly enough to make him come right there and then. He could feel every inch of Tyrande’s depth as he slowly entered her, feeling the pulsing warmth of her pushing against him.

 

Tyrande began to gyrate against Lor’themar, focusing on the delicious sensation of his sword navigating its way through her. Lorth moaned, caressing her thighs and firm purple buttocks as he felt her push down against him. As the minutes passed and Tyrande increased her momentum, the regent lord began to feel the pleasurable pressure fill his member once more. This time there was no interruption from outside the bedroom door, and at last Lor’themar grunted like an animal as the bliss surged through him, pushing along his sticky love-juice in its wake like jetsam before a flood. Tyrande felt the throbbing cock within her pulsing hard against her walls, filling her with its load, and sighed in contentment - there was nothing like being filled to the brim with thicc gooey man juice. It was a good thing she had expected this, and had downed a vial of _fetus deletus_ the previous night. She leaned downwards and tenderly pressed her lips succulently against Lor’themar’s. “I bet Rommath never treated you this well, hmmm?”

 

“Rommath would have thrown me onto the bed and had his filthy way with my rear,” Lor’themar chuckled as he brushed a stray strand of hair out of his lover’s face. Tyrande smirked. “If only I could have _my_ filthy way with it,” she replied. She snaked a long arm around to his rear and assaulted his poop hole with her finger. Lor’themar shivered.

 

Suddenly an idea popped into his pervy head. “Wait here, my love, and you can have my asshole any way you want it,” he said with a kiss to her head. He hopped off the bed and knelt to dig around underneath it as Tyrande made herself comfortable. “Aha, here it is,” he exclaimed. Tyrande watched his blonde head bob around as he fished out a large silver box. He heaved it onto the bed and flipped open the lid.

 

Inside was all manner of depraved sex toys, from ridiculously tassled and sparkly butt plugs and dildos to nasty looking ball gags and restraints. Tyrande’s eyes widened as she watched him fumble through its contents. After a few moments he finally found what he was looking for. “Here we are!” he said happily as he threw it down onto the bed before her. The High Priestess’s mouth watered slightly as she beheld a handsome strap-on harness and a well-endowed, ludicrously gilded dildo designed to fit into the crotch of the harness. In all their thousands of years of marriage Malfurion had never once expressed interest in being fucked by her in a strap-on, although she had brought it up many times. If he couldn’t have his shapeshifting, he had told her, she couldn’t have his ass.

 

“Speechless, I see,” Lor’themar smirked as he tucked his chest away. “It’s one of my most prized possessions.”

 

Tyrande picked up the dildo and examined it. “It is beautiful, but alas, not as large as it would be if it were a Kal’dorei cock,” she said almost dismissively. Lor’themar scoffed. “What’s the matter, afraid it would break you?” she said, one eyebrow raised in challenge.

 

“Never,” Lor’themar growled.

 

“Then let me make some...adjustments,” Tyrande purred, and raised the dildo up to the heavens where Elune was keeping close tabs on her priestess. Warm, holy light began to surround the golden phallus, infusing it with even more pleasurable potency and increasing its length and girth to a size befitting only the girthiest of night elves. Lor’themar gulped as he beheld the now massive dildo, wondering how on Azeroth it was going to fit up his tender anus.

 

“Intimidated?” Tyrande asked as she slipped on the strap-on. Lor’themar glared and merely crawled onto the bed on all fours, ass presented, pink pucker clenching against the cool air. The Regent Lord wiggled his rear at her. “Take me now, you beautiful sex goddess you,” he purred over his shoulder.

 

In response, Tyrande climbed up onto the bed and positioned herself behind his delicious booty, ready to dominate it utterly. “Oh! I almost forgot!” leaning over the side of the bed, Tyrande rummaged around in her belongings until she uncovered a small glowing green vial. Uncorking it, she spread the viscous liquid liberally onto the golden schlong, then rubbed what remained on her hands into the puckered aperture before her - giggling as Lor’themar jumped at her cold, slimy touch. “Bilewing honey,” she said in way of explanation. “The dryads swear by it, but this is the first time I’ve used it. Let’s find out how effective it is, shall we?” And with that, she plunged her golden glory deep into Lor’themar’s needy ham flower.

 

Lorthie cried out as he felt the gilded tip of the donger push against his asshole and then force its way past, his backdoor stretching further than he would have thought possible. The monstrosity plunged deep into his ass, deeper and deeper until he was certain there was no way he could fit another inch. The all encompassing girth of the dildo filled him so completely that he barely registered it when Tyrande’s stomach finally butted up against his cheeks.

 

“You like that, my pointy eared paramour?” She breathed in his ear, but received no response but a faint moan. She chuckled, then began to withdraw herself in preparation for another thrust. As she drove home once more, this time with more speed, Lor’themar went cross eyed and moaned louder than ever before as he felt his prostate take the full brunt of the blow, filling his entire body with rapturous bliss. A faint tingling began to work its way from his butthole inwards - perhaps a side effect of the bilewing lube. Tyrande thrust once more, then again, and again, her mighty thighs driving her heavy humperdinger deep into wonderland as Lor’themar cried out in ecstasy. It did not take long before Lor’themar’s own excalibur could take no more - twitching and jerking with every lunge Tyrande made into his butt pussy. Thick, glistening strands of jizzm burst out of him uncontrollably, soiling every last one of his fine embersilken pillows and sheets while Tyrande looked on in satisfaction at a job well done.

 

Tyrande pulled backwards, withdrawing herself from Lorth’s jiggling behind with a squelching pop, when with a sudden skreak of tortured wood the bed collapsed beneath them, having taken all the punishment it could handle. The two lovers yelped as they dropped down to the ground with a loud thud, finding themselves enveloped in the drape that had previously covered the top of the four poster. They stared at each other mouths agape, then both burst out in laughter. Lor’themar may have been able to withstand the girth of the aureate ass annihilator, but his bed certainly had not.

 

When Lor’themar had recovered, he rolled over and stroked the slippery dildo still mounted on Tyrande’s crotch. “Well my dear,” he said breathlessly, “shall we take this somewhere more stable? I doubt this bed will survive another round.” Tyrande sat back amongst the crumpled drapes and disheveled bedding. “What do you suggest, my lord?” she asked.

 

Lor’themar grinned and grabbed the enormous poker roughly, pulling Tyrande toward him by the groin. “Why don’t you give me that strap-on and we’ll find out?” he whispered. She raised an eyebrow skeptically. “And what do you intend to do with it?” she asked as she pulled it off. Lor’themar gave her a lascivious smile. “Go out to the balcony and I’ll show you.”

 

Still slightly dubious she rose from the ruined bed and crossed to the open balcony, looking out over the brightening early morning sky and feeling slightly exposed. She was still incredibly horny, her purple beef curtains oozing copious amounts of lady juice, and hearing the sensual cries from the few orgies that were still going on in the city below wasn’t helping. Impatient for another orgasm, she turned on her heel as she heard Lor’themar join her.

 

“Lorthie, what -” she began, but stopped dead in her tracks when she was confronted with the sight of Lor’themar standing nude, arms akimbo, with the strap-on strapped snugly about his hips and his cock shoved deep into the hollow core of the Kal’dorei-sized nob. “I wanted to try this one on for size,” he announced, patting his most prized possession fondly.

 

Tyrande felt her ovaries explode with lust. “Get over here and shove that massive donger in my priestly pooper,” she moaned. “All in good time, my dear,” Lor’themar said, lubing his schlong with a generous amount of the bilewing liquid. Tyrande leaned back against the railing and spread her legs, fingering her blushing bunghole open. The Regent Lord approached her, gigantic prick bouncing stiffly with each step, and hoisted her up by her quivering ass cheeks. She folded her legs over his shoulders, all the better for him to pound her pucker with his pisser. “Ready?” Lor’themar asked. The High Priestess nodded.

 

With one perfectly aimed thrust, Lor’themar shoved his enhanced hymen hammer deep into her heavenly anus. Tyrande threw back her head and screamed. “So tight,” Lor’themar grunted, pulling out and pushing back in with even greater force. As he fucked her with beastly ferocity, Tyrande watched the sun rise over Silvermoon upside down over the balcony railing, her head jerking with each merciless thrust. The first rays of the sun shone on the two entwined figures and Lor’themar moaned loudly, bestially. His rhythm faltered and nearly stopped. Tyrande raised her head. “Are you -”

 

“Turned on by the sun, yes,” the leader of the blood elves gasped, cutting her off, his eyes rolling back in his head from the sensation of the warm, sensuous rays. “Unbelievable,” she muttered but was almost on the verge of orgasm herself, and any further commentary was cut short as Lor’themar resumed his earlier, colon-crushing pace. The sun rose slightly higher in the sky as Tyrande felt the dam of pleasure break in her pelvis and she screamed her orgasm out for Elune, and all of Quel’thalas, to hear. Lor’themar, red faced and panting, was soon to follow, his porksicle sploshing hot seed through the small opening in the dildo so it could coat Tyrande’s twitching innards.

 

Utterly spent, the two collapsed against the railing, coated in sweat and other, stickier fluids. Tyrande, gradually coming to her senses now that her sexual needs had been met, suddenly realised that she had just fucked the Regent Lord of Silvermoon on the balcony of Sunfury Spire - in full view of an entire Horde city. With an ungainly squawk, she flattened herself to the ground and glared furiously at Lor’themar as she backed away from the railing. As she mouthed inarticulately at him, knowing that the blame for this lay fully on her shoulders, Lorth seemed utterly unconcerned, still basking in the light of the sun. “Don’t worry my dear - this isn’t the first time I’ve made love to someone on this balcony. I have a… thing for exhibitionism, but I can’t have the cityfolk seeing - or hearing - such things, so I had Rommath install a permanent shielding spell around this whole area. As far as they know, we - or should I say you - were never here.”

 

“That’s… right - I was never here.” She replied suspiciously. While slightly mollified by this information, Tyrande still chose to make for the interior of Lor’themar’s suite, with the Regent Lord nonchalantly following suit. Quickly reclothing herself as Lorth unclasped the still glowing dildo, Tyrande awkwardly turned to face her paramour. “Well, ah… I had better depart, before Malfurion is entirely lost to Xavius’ affections.” Lor’themar raised an eyebrow but said nothing at the mention of the satyr lord. Tyrande hesitated, then continued.

 

“I… I enjoyed this, and, well…” Tyrande strode toward Lor’themar and bent him over backwards with one final kiss. “Goodbye, my dear. I will remember this night fondly.” With two further steps, she reached the window of the room and vanished into the early morning light.

 

Lor’themar sighed in contentment, then shook his head in wry amusement at the bed’s remains - he would have to summon a servant or two to take care of that. Oh, and apologise to Rommath - though perhaps that would have to wait until later in the day. He was certain his apology would entail something rather… physical, and he wasn’t sure his poor inflamed todger could take another bout so soon. He walked over to the door and left the room as well, leaving his romantic boudoir uninhabited once more.

 

Uninhabited… but not unobserved. Rommath, his floppy dongle still protruding from his silken boyshorts and oozing masubatory postcum, leant back from his crystal ball and lit up his ornately carved bong. He didn’t usually indulge in voyeurism, but he would have had to have been blind to miss the voluminous figure hiding in Lor’themar’s bed, and he didn’t remember any tauren or trolls entering the spire in the past day. He had been quite flabbergasted to see the leader of the night elves in bed with his lord, but his surprise quickly evaporated into lust as he gazed upon their impressive performance. So impressive, in fact, that though he had already come twice his libido still  demanded more. He might have to pay a visit to Kalec in Dalaran - with enough persuading, he might just share his big blue bad dragon with the blood elf mage.

 

Rommath stood up, the chair he had been leaning back in falling into place. He donned his iconic red and gold bandana and, making a few arcane sigils in the air, created a glowing blue portal to Dalaran. If he had deigned to look backwards before vanishing into the aether, he would have been quite horrified to notice that some of his far flung cum had blotted out an arcane rune labeled “DO NOT TOUCH - Lor’themar Balcony One Way Invisibility Shield.”  But as luck would have it, he had not seen such a thing, and thus it would still be a few more hours before the ramifications of this would catch up to him. For now, Kalec awaited… ;)


End file.
